Moving house just before Christmas is double, perhaps treble, stress.
Not only is there the usual hectic frantic scramble towards those three festive (well, they're supposed to be as merry as the moniker edicts) days, with the shopping for food and presents and a tree and balls for in the bloody tree, and then another bloody tree for my ancient Mum with the lights and balls for that as well...
But there is also the mad rush to get the TV working before the 24th (doubtful) and the lights and water sorted our before I get cut off (very doubtful), and the hassle of informing the Inland Revenue that I have, indeed, got divorced but that the kids are alternating between their Dad's and my house, as the mood takes them in fact.
Hotel Mama is in full swing, business as usual there!
Hah! Tell me about it! I haven't had as many heart palpitations since yonks years. Thinking back, I think the last time I was this strung out was when I was moving back from London to The Wetlands without any money, no house and no job. Not to speak of lover-less.
Still. I refuse to be beaten. See this? This is my ancient Mum's equally ancient car, and that thing sticking out is my Christmas tree. It's in the corner of my new living room right now and it is happy!
Today I screwed away like an eager little beaver and assembled a settee and two cd racks. They have now joined my table and tv table and side table and three beds and when I shout "IKEA!" the entire house starts to shake with joy and mirth.
Don't know about you, but I am struggling, battling, to keep the Christmas Blues at bay and that Wolf of Discontent from my door.
There's this little nagging awful voice that keeps whispering in my ear that I didn't ask for this, I didn't wish to be on my own for two entire days of Christmas, with only my ancient Mum to keep me from drinking myself to oblivion whilst my kids will have flown Hotel Mama to be with their lovers, friends and ...yes...ooh bitter truth, Dad.
Right. Enough of this moody shit! I have been invited to one Christmas Party, oh yes indeed, and I will enjoy it if it kills me.
So. To all of you who are in the same manger, so to speak, as myself, I wish you a wonderful holiday weekend. You are not alone. I am here. When you get lonely, think "Wetlands" and I'll send you some instant warmth and kindness.